#[[ it's not THAT tragic so he's over-reacting ]]
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simplyzeeka · 2 days ago
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Ruffian
Part.1
Summary: Ryan has been living a lonely life on her farm for a decade now. With no family to seek company from, she developed a routine with just her and her animals, something that soothed her loneliness. Until her happiness came back a little earlier than expected.
Warnings: MDNI!!! Cussing, chaotic animals, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, p in v(no protection), face sitting if you squint. They just missed each other y'all 😔
A/n: So, uhmm. This was supposed to be straight fluff, nothing nasty at all. But sometimes, characters have a mind of their own.
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Ryan always believed life in the countryside was much more peaceful. Although she hasn't even licked the city streets, she hears enough to have a clear and unbiased opinion about it. But that did not mean that the countryside did not have its chaos. “Daisy… Daisy! Come back here girl, where you goin’?”
And most of this chaos came from her small little farm, especially her Great Dane. If it weren't her chickens causing a ruckus, her sheep and goats were raining ditsy havoc. Her only peace came from her Friesian stallion, Ferris, always chewing on a bunch of hay in his stable away from the blasting heat.
Despite all this, Ryan loved her little farm. It was a place with many stories. Tragic and happy alike. She inherited the small plot from her grandmother who raised her into the woman she was, her parents having moved to the city since she was young as a way to send money back into the farm.
Ryan shook her head at her dog’s antics before turning back to the task before her. “Okay, Ro. We’re all done girl, you get some rest.” She spoke quietly to her cow, applying a post-dipping solution on each teat when the spotted animal did not have any more milk to give. Ryan took off her gloves and offered the cow a batch of hay, then left the stable after checking on Ro’s calf.
It was a rather long day, helping a cow give birth was the least of her expectations, luckily her grandmother had always prepared Ryan for such a situation. She carried the bucket of colostrum filled milk that would be used to feed the calf, but stopped to check on her Stallion. “What’s up big guy? Your water still good?” Ryan checked the stable for any irregularities.
Once satisfied she left the stable, securing the lash before a smooth velvet voice caught her attention. “That sissy still standin’? Thought he woulda been long dead.”
Ryan whipped her head behind her, there occupying the entrance of the shed. Worn out timbs and a pair of denim jeans that matched in condition. White wife beaters and a denim jacket over his shoulder, his signature silver chain hanging around his neck. Terrence Richmond was still as handsome as he was all those years ago.
“You lyin’ to me.” Ryan shook her head, eyes blinking slowly, there was no way he stood in front of her currently. It was too early, he wasn't supposed to be back until a few weeks. See, Ryan knew that she should stop smoking the pre-rolls that Willow always brought, they tended to leave her more paranoid than relaxed.
The smile he let out from her quiet whisper was enough to spark a flamelet to her, he really was here. Years and years of being separated and finally, he was in front of her. , “I’m right here, baby.” He dropped the bags in his hand and opened his arms.
It took a while for Ryan to react, rendered speechless just by the mere fact that he was here… with her and near her. Next thing one step turned into two, then three before she was spriniting in his direction. Ryan wasted no time locking her body around his, legs around his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Terry held her even tighter, his hands gripping at her thighs so he could hold her up. A soft scent of cinnamon and peaches invaded his nose so delicately that he brushed his nose against her neck to inhale more of the sweet scent.
“I thought you was gon’ be out in a few weeks. I aint even prepare nothin’ for you, coulda held a party or somet-.”
Terry didn't allow her to finish, “Ry baby, I dont need a party. This is good, this is perfect.” Terry protested, honestly so because there was no better way than for him to celebrate his return than with his fiancé.
Ryan held his face, a small pinch between her brows as she inspected his face. “I coulda bought you somethin’ nice at least.”
Terry laughed, knowing that Ryan always wanted nothing more than to please. Her heart plummeted at the sound, she missed it… thought she'd never hear it again, but Terry had a way of always coming back to her. “God, I missed you, like a fish outta water.”
Their noses nudged as she spoke, until the distance between their lips became a little too much to bear and Terry pressed their lips together. He swallowed the sound of her content sigh, felt her relax as she leisurely responded.
The small flame in her heart spread to the rest of her body, little embers flicking off her body when his hands grabbed at her supple flesh intentionally.
Ryan grew into her womanhood, everything about her screamed ‘grown’ and Terry loved every moment of that realisation. Ten years… he hasn't seen his woman for ten years, didn't watch her grow and grow with her. But he had time to spare now, and he would be damned if he didn't spend it on Ryan.
It took being placed on a block of hay and Terry stepping between her legs that made her push him away gently. “Mmm wait baby, we can't. Ro just calved.” She explained breathlessly while playing with the charm on his chain.
“Ro? As in little Ro?” Terry asked shocked, “She getting down and busy?” Ryan rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder with a laugh. “Ro ain't so little no more. And, she been gettin’ down and busy. This her third baby.”
Terry immediately moved his body away from Ryan, running her fingers through his short curls. “Somebody got my baby pregnant?” He frowned at the declaration, no longer in the mood to get acquainted with Ryan’s body. This was big.
Ryan huffed at his Oscar winning antics. “Terry, please. She damn near eleven years old, and also a cow. Breedin’ is what they do.” She explained, not that she thought they had to, he knew what it was when he bought Ro. “Yeah, but not my Ro.”
Ryan cackled at that, he never failed to treat all the livestock on this farm like children… except her horse of course. She couldn't blame him, Terry and Ryan bought Ro off a cow breeder before he left for the military. They were only twenty years old, freshly engaged and had a dream to grow a farm together… their farm. Ro was their first cow, a big accomplishment because cows were expensive as hell.
“Okay, Soldier. Calm down.” Ryan got up from the hay and walked over to Terry. “How bout you help me carry the milk to the kitchen?” She suggested, pointing at the half full bucket of milk behind him.
Reluctantly, Terry obliged, he picked up the bucket and followed Ryan to the kitchen. She did some work to the small area, it looked different from the last time he saw it.
“You recolored?” He asked, placed the bucket on the floor before looking around. It smelled like freshly baked cookies, which didn't surprise Terry, he knew how much Ryan loved to bake.
“Mhm, got tired of the grey.” Ryan grabbed the bucket of milk and poured it in baby bottles for the calf when it woke up, she had fed it a while before it went into a deep sleep.
Terry couldn't help but to watch her, like really watch her. Her face, her hair, her skin. Everything about her. Dressed in a plain shirt, the front of it tied in a knot, showing a bit of her stomach. Flared jeans that hugged her thighs enticingly. As always, Ryan wore a low cut, stetson hat on her head, she wouldn't leave the house without one on.
She looked good, damn good and Terry found himself unable to keep composure again. A few tentative steps was all it took until he was behind her. His hands placed on her hips while his fingers dig into her belt loops as to pull her hips into his.
Ryan let out a soft laugh when she felt tickling kisses behind her ear travelling to her neck. He smelled like he always did. Honey and a hint of musk. “I'm tryna concentrate, Terrence.” Ryan began, not detering from her task, just as stubborn as Terry was on his because he didn't let up on her. “You can do this later. Come on, Ry. I miss you.”
Ryan shook her head, this was important, the baby needed their milk. “And I got you later. Gon’ make you dinner and everythin’.” She turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with the little curls on the nape of his neck.
Terry sighed and looked down at her. She was so pretty. Her cheeks softly filled out, cheekbones lifting as she smiled. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from letting out a soft grunt of frustration, how was he supposed to hold off when she looked this good.
“Alright, I'ma hold you to that.” He nodded, sending a small smack to her ass and a kiss to her plump lips. “Anything you need me to help with?”
“Can you check on Ro?” Terry nodded in agreement, pecking her lips one more time before retreating from the kitchen, “Yes ma'am.”
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Time passed slowly, that when evening rolled in, Ryan was already spent from her day. She made sure that Ro and her calf were settled in for sleeping as all her other babies. As usual, her chickens gave her more of a run around, but Terry helped put them in their coop.
She had just finished with dinner, opted for a bit of a full plate as Terry's first proper meal since being back.
He was currently in the shower washing the day away while she got the table ready. She had Janet Jackson playing in the background, something she always did to decompress from a busy day of farm work.
“Terry! Come on now. The food gettin’ cold.” She called out, impatiently seated, waiting for him so they could eat.
“I'm here, I'm here.” He rushed down the stairs. His heavy steps creaked on loose floorboards. He marvelled at the effort that Ryan put into making such a vast dinner for him. Terry couldn't remember the last time he's had a proper meal straight out the pot.
“Smells good baby.” He complimented, landing a peck on her cheek before he took a seat in front of her. “Looks good too.”
Ryan smiled in appreciation, “Thank you, baby.” She did a little jiggle at the compliment, causing Terry to laugh endearingly. “Alright, let's eat. I'm hungrier than a tic on a teddy bear.”
And at that they dug in. Ryan and Terry caught up with everything they have missed together. Ten years, and Ryan still couldn't help but feel like a giddy school kid around Terry. He always had that effect on her, and something told her that he always would.
Terry ate like a man starved and Ryan used this time he was distracted to admire him. He gained muscle… a lot of muscle. While he wasn't necessarily a man of small stature, Terry came back with his clothes stretched out. She eyed his prominent veins pop out everytime he flexed his arm even the slightest.
He trimmed his beard out and kept his goatee. It was a small change, but a nice one. She remembered constantly calling him ‘patchy’ back when he was trying to fully grow it but it wouldn't grow the way he liked it.
Once dinner was done, Terry offered to wash the dishes since Ryan cooked. “You go get the bed ready, pretty. I'ma be up there in a few.”
Ryan nodded and her small feet pattered up the stairs to her bedroom. She made sure to turn the ceiling fan on, the heat making her a little irritated. “Hotter than satan’s crack.” She mumbled lowly, naive to the presence in the room.
“Wouldn't be feeling so hot if you got out those jeans.” Terry commented from behind her, arms wrapping around her torso. “You tryna get me out my clothes, Mr. Richmond?” She turned to face him, hands rested against his ripple chest.
Terry playfully shook his head, nudging his nose against hers. “Nah, I wouldn't dare, Mrs. Richmond.”
Fuck she loved that, she couldn't wait until she could become that formally. Ryan landed a kiss on his lips, missed that. Missed kissing him so much, touching him and loving him.
The kiss picked up pace. While Terry had always been an impatient man, the time they have spent apart left him with an insatiable hunger. Ryan breathed him in, cupping his lower jaw as to pull away slightly for some air. Terry chased her lips, not giving a damn about breathing with Ryan this close in his proximity.
They crashed together again, then stumbled everywhere in the room. Terry tapped her thigh twice, before he rested his hands on the underside of her thighs and picked her up with ease, and on the bed he laid Ryan gently.
Her hands fumbled with her belt buckle, not wanting to waste anymore time talking and laughing. She wanted him, in every way he came to her.
Terry took over, gently removing her hands and undid the buckle himself, except he took his time. Once the leather was gone, he unbuttoned her jeans with his teeth, sliding them down her thick thighs along with the orange lace panties that he wished he had taken the time to appreciate on her.
Ryan was breathing heavily, watching as Terry kissed on her exposed stomach. He was serenading her with his lips, silently telling her how much he missed her.
The pillows of his lips moved from her stomach, down to her pelvis. He kissed the visible scar on the soft skin, one she got when she tried shaving without any guidance for the first time.
By the feel of his lips moving lower, Ryan was too anticipated to let him do what he wanted. She wasn't in the mood for foreplay.
“Terry, I don't need that now.” She whispered as she rested on her elbows, looking down at the earthiness of his eyes. Fuck him for being so beautiful.
“Hm? What you need then?”
Ryan shook her head, she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to explicitly tell him what she wanted. But how could she so boldly tell him that she wanted to be stuffed with his dick.
“Closed mouths don't get fed, baby. Gotta let me know what you want so I can give it to you.”
“I can't, T.” She reasoned softly.
“Yes you can, I know you can. You know why? Cause you're my baby, and my baby listens.”
Ryan sighed heavily, unable to understand why he couldn't just fuck her and call it a night. Now he was bringing all this Military obedience bullshit to her at the worst of times. It frustrated her.
“Terry, come on. Please.”
He noted her frustration, sighed in disappointment before he stood to his full height. “Okay baby.”
“We'll fix that some other time.”
And she knew that was a promise he was going to keep. Ryan smiled in relief, gasped suddenly when he kissed her feverishly.
This kiss was sloppy. They nipped at each other's lips before Ryan granted him access into her mouth.
And inevitably, allowed entrance into her leaking folds as well.
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It wasn't just his muscles that grew, his dick seemed to have gained an extra pound as well because it laid heavy inside her, stretching her out that she knew nobody would ever be able to fill his space, not that she wanted anybody to.
Ryan struggled to take it, regardless of the face that he was going slow, she still couldn't take it. The mushroom of her tip brushed carelessly at the soft tissue of her spot at every thrust, it had her recoiling backwards everytime he pulled out.
“Don't piss me off, Ryan. You wanted this right?” Terry gritted out, his grip on her hips tight as she rolled his hips up into her yet again. Slow, deep strokes. Just as she liked. “Hm? Answer me, baby.”
Her pussy was gold. Always has been, always will be. Ryan had no right to grip at him like that and expect him to let her run. You couldn't offer somebody candy and expect them not to indulge, it was inhumane, at least to Terry it was.
He had her holding her legs, presenting herself to him so she could watch where their hips met without obstruction. Ryan's essence pooled around her thighs and Terry's, leaked out everytime he pulled out the piping heat of her pussy to where his tip is all that stayed, before he dove his heavy dick back inside her so he could kiss her insides.
“Fuck. Y-yes I did.” Ryan managed to respond, her brows drawn together, her eyes too stuck on where they connected. Watched as rings of cream coasted the thick base of his dick. “Fat fuckin’ dick. Oh my… yess.” She whispered softly, throwing her head back, her grip on her thighs tightened ever so oftenly.
“And you love me, hmm baby? You love me don't you?”
“Yes yes yes yesss. Love you so much. Oh my God.” Ryan looked up at him with teary eyes.
“So don't run from what you love baby, don't run from me. Take this dick, there you go, girl. Pretty fuckin’ pussy.”
He fucked like a grown man now too. Before he left, Terry and Ryan had good sex, she wouldn't dispute that. But it never felt like this, he definitely missed her, and he sure as fuck was showing her just how much.
“So deep, so fuckin’ deep, T. Just like that.”
“Yeah? In your stomach baby?” Terry watched where his dick poked out on her stomach. But Ryan shook her head dumbly, he felt way beyond that. “In my- shittt. In my heart.”
“In your heart?” Terry laughed, the sound causing Ryan's walls to pulsate around as they clenched. That drew a hiss out of Terry before he continued. “Dick got you talkin’ dumb baby.”
Ryan moaned at that. Fuck she liked that, she liked that a lot. It made her ooze more of her juices, down her ass and onto the bed.
“Ease up mama, let me in.” Terry groaned, struggling to dig her out the way he wanted to because she gripped at his dick so tight, sucking him in with every thrust. “Open up, Ryan. Let Daddy in.”
“Shittt.” She creamed at that. Fuck he was so sexy, so so sexy she wanted to give him children. Ryan tried to open up more, but the heaviness of his dick made it hard. He was impaling her, and he expected her to make that easier for him?
Terry wrapped her legs around his waist, leaned lower, his elbows near either side of her head. Their foreheads touched and Ryan wasted no time touching on him.
He was angled so much deeper like this, but that wasn't what had her heart pumping. The way he looked at her, while slowly pumping her full of dick had her reciting her love for him all over again.
“I love you, love you so fuckin’ much, T.” She spoke with her eyes stuck on his, hands caressing his jaw as her mouth fell open at his pace. “Fuck yesss.”
“Fuck this pussy magic. Wanna die in it, wetting me up so good. Pretty baby, you so pretty Ry. You hear me? So so pretty. Love you, till death yeah?.”
And she believed him, believed that he would die for her because Terry has shown her his love, showed her that she deserves that kind of love, and that kind of love deserved her.
“Oh my God… I'ma cum. I'm cummin’ baby.”
“I know, I feel it baby, I feel you. Let it go, cum on your dick mama.” He coached her, leaving kisses on her face as he maintained the pace of his hips. He whispered profanities and sweet everything's in her ear as Ryan squeezed around him.
“Fuck fuck fuhhh. Oh my God, I love you.” She gasped when she gushed on him heavily. Her cum leaked out of her, damn near pushing Terry out of her walls. He fucked her through it, kissing her slightly sweaty skin.
He pulled away from her, rubbing her thighs lovingly and watched as she caught her breath. “Turn over, I ain't done.” Terry sent a small smack to the side of her thighs and laughed when he heard her whine but still as obedient as ever, oblige to his command.
On her elbows and knees, Ryan spread her legs slightly, earning an appreciative hum from Terry as he gripped at her plump ass.
“Look at you.” He said, eyeing the slick that covered her heat before blowing on her swollen bud. “She missed me, hmm?” he asked no one in particular, yet still, Ryan responded with a silent “Yes, Sir.” that had Terry grabbing the base of his dick. The sound of her accent didn't make this any better.
He sent a long stripe from her clit to her pulsating hole. Sucked her bud into his mouth and gave her pussy lazy kisses that left Ryan leaking again.
Ryan gripped at the sheets in front of her. This man was insatiable, and she knew that there was a long night ahead of her, if not a few days as well. “Shit shit shit, like that. Just like that.”
He hummed against her, the vibrations creating pressure waves inside of her, amplifying the pleasure that was being sent to her brain. “Taste so fucking good, look at this shit.” Terry said and spread her lips apart, before diving back in, slipping his pink muscle inside her and exploring more of her taste.
Ryan's thighs shook, almost causing her to fall out of the position. “Keep that fucking arch, Ryan. You hear me?”
She whined in response, pinched her eyes together from the slight overstimulation.
Terry was a noisy eater, slurping and slipping. Didn't even mind moaning at her taste, occasionally praising how much she got wet, how pretty her pussy looked, how much he loved her.
Once he was done with his oral loving, he teased Ryan's entrance with his tip. Slapped it against her clit a few times before sliding it between her folds.
Once he slowly plunged into her slowly, he threw his head back and whimpered shamelessly. The sound made Ryan smile to herself, loving how he expressed himself freely in that sense.
“Fuckk, not sure if I can hold off mama.” She muttered, pulled out then plunged back in again, the sight made his dick twitch. “Can't believe I went ten years without this pussy. Never again, okay baby?”
Terry began the relentless thrusting. Pulled her hips back against him, watching the recoil of her ass in appreciation. “Never again. Gon’ die in this shit if I have to.” His bottom lip sank between his teeth, watching himself enter her with more and more cream decorating his veiny dick.
Ryan was at a loss of words, couldn't speak as tears filled her eyes. Dick couldn't be this good. She understood now why women often fought for their men, there was no way she's ever letting up on this. Terry would get fucked up for even doing something as stupid as think of getting with another woman.
Naturally, she threw her ass back on him, because she missed him. And he deserved this, deserved so much more. “Fuckkk that's it, show out mama. Take your dick, just like that. Taking me so good, it's yours ain't it?”
The sound of skin clapping and squelching could be heard in the room, accompanied by the sound of their persistent moans and whimpers. Their declarations of love and praises.
“So big, stretchin’ me so much. Fuck, let up Terry.” Ryan cried out, reached behind her to push against his stomach. Terry ignored that, instead, he just slid back in deeper. He angled his hips that made him kiss her cervix with so much pressure. Ryan opened her mouth agape and her arm fell forward to grip the sheets.
"Why you fucking me like this?" She moaned out elongated, using the leverage of her elbows to pull her hips away from him. "Cause you deserve it. You deserve this nut, baby." Terry gritted out, so concentrated at the work he was putting between her thighs, watching the mesmerising waves on her ass every time their skin slapped. "Working so hard every damn day, takin' care of the house, the farm. You don't gotta worry bout that no more though, cause Daddy's home. You hear me, Ry?" Terry angled his hip in a way that dug her out in a way that would have had her promising babies, but she held off.
All she could do was nod, grip the sheets harder. Her moans leaking out her mouth like the faucet between her legs. "Mh mh, say it. Say Daddy's home baby."
“Daddy’s home… fuckkk daddy's home. I'm bout to cum.”
“Right behind you baby, cum with me baby. Hold it just a little longer.”
Ryan tried, she tried so hard to listen but she couldn't hold it. She began squirming on him, yelling chants of ‘I love you's’.
The feel of her clenching sent Terry over the edge. “Fuck fuck fuckk, I'm cummin’.” He grunted before he spilled inside her then fucked his nut inside her.
The two gathered their breath, catching a sense of time and space while coming down their highs.
Once Terry pulled out, Ryan believed she was done. “Sit up baby.” Terry called out gently, rubbing her back gently as she moved around the bed.
Once she was sat on the bed, she was face to face-to-face with his slick covered dick. He definitely was bigger, and the sight of his cum mixed with hers had her mouth watering.
Ryan looked up at Terry, the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “You okay?” He asked for assurance to continue first, the ball was in her hands.
Ryan eagerly nodded. She wanted this, needed this even. “Clean me up then.” he ordered.
Hesitantly, she wrapped her hands around him. Even with both hands, his head still peaked out. The weight of it felt tantalising.
“Don't play around with that shit, Ry. Eat it up.”
Immediately, her lips wrap around his head, sucking gently. Her eyes met his when her tongue poked out to lick from her shaft to the base. They tasted good together, like a match made perfectly in heaven.
Ryan slid her mouth around him, sliding her lips lower as she inhaled. Her hands wrapped around what she couldn't fit into her mouth. He felt heavier on her tongue. “That's right, nice and slow. Ain't goin’ nowhere mama.” Terry watched with his lip caught between his teeth.
His brows furrowed as she took him with skill, just as he taught her all those years ago. Ryan began bobbing her head, her eyes already getting teary at the way he stretched her mouth open.
“Just like that. My baby getting me right. Take what you need.”
Ryan picked up the pace, slurping at his dick like it was her last meal, slowly easing him deeper in her throat, her nose slowly inching towards his pelvis.
“Look at you. Nasty ass, you love this dick Ryan?”
She nodded her head, hummed in response as well knowing that would drive him crazy. By now, she was damn near deep throating him, his tip kissing the back of her throat.
Ryan clenches her throat around his head which causes Terry to buck his hips forward. Ryan pulled away to get some air, breathing loudly as her hand twisted around the weight of the muscle.
She tapped the head against her tongue before sliding it back into her mouth.
Terry laughed, he wanted to be gentle, wanted to let her do her thing. But now she had him worked up, teasing him as if she wanted him to show out.
Gripping the back of her head, Terry pulled her away from him, before guiding her back towards his head.
“Breathe, baby. Breath.” He instructed, watching as Ryan nodded in understanding.
Terry slid into her mouth, watching her jaw relax as she breathed, right until her nose touched his pelvis. He heard her gag and relieved her by pulling out.
Tears adorned her eyelids, falling when she blinked up at him with spit running down her chin. “So good baby, you think you can do it?”
Ryan nodded her head. “Yeah, I can, promise. Please.”
“Mhm, ‘course you can.” He said before siding back into her mouth. “Love being slutted out, don't you mama. Mi get yuh, baby.”
The patois, fuck the patois. It wasn't often that she heard it before he left, only ever when he was angry. Then he spoke in patois, but during sex? Ryan has never heard it, and she's not sure she wanted him to stop.
Ryan hummed around his dick. He used her mouth for good measure. “You so pretty like this.” He praised as his thrusted into her mouth gently, loving the sight of her lips wrapping around him.
Ryan did a few tricks with her tongue, drawing him closer to his orgasm. “Fuckkk Ry. Fuck baby, I'm bout to nut. You gon catch it?” He asked breathlessly, brows pinched together as his grip on her head tightened.
Ryan moaned around him, her hands rested on top of his thighs. The room filled with sounds of gagging and Terry's moans.
It didn't fall unnoticed to Terry the hands that rested between Ryan's legs. She was playing with herself, smearing his nut between her fold as she rubbed leisure circles on her sensitive bud. Perhaps she liked Terry in her mouth more than she thought she did.
Terry laughed at that sight, pulled out of her mouth and heard as she gasped to take a breath. Ryan chased the head of his dick, clearly not happy with how soon it ended, he didn't even cum yet. Despite all the spit running down her chest and the tears that filled her eyes, she still wanted more.
Terry teased her, pulling her head back everytime she got close to having him back in her mouth. “Terry, come on.” She whispered desperately.
Hr knew she could get down and grimey if she wanted to. Terry knew that Ryan could fuck him to sleep if she wanted to, if only she could stop being so shy. They'd get there though, he'll make sure of it.
“It's right there baby, go head and take it.” He urged, tilting her head to see her face better. “Or you want me to give it to you?” Ryan immediately nodded her head, she liked him being rough, taking what he needed because he knew she would do nothing but give.
“You lazy as fuck Ryan. Daddy gon get you right, though.”
His hand let go of her hair, wrapped his hand around her neck instead, squeezed just enough to slow down the blood from going to her head.
Ryan felt a little lightheaded when Terry pulled her up to where she stood on her feet. Her hand wrap around his wrist, her eyes crossed eve so slightly when he squeezed tighter. “Fuck.” She whispered.
Terry pecked her lips. Once, twice, and a few more times. “You okay, baby?” He asked, releasing some tension on her neck but kept his hand there.
“Mhm, I'm fine. Thank you.” She smiled tiredly.
“Good. Cause I aint finished. Come sit on my face.”
“Terry. I'm tired, I got a lot of work tomorrow.” She shook her head incredulously. There was no way he could possible have that much energy. What water are they giving these men in the military?
“And ain't I say Daddy's home?. I'ma help with all that.” He tapped her thigh.
Ryan sighed and climbed over him on the bed, hovered over his face slightly, clearly worried about suffocating him.
“Don't play with me, Ryan. I said sit.”
Ryan rolled her eyes, happy he couldn't see her. “Sir, yes Sir.” She mumbled before lowering on his perfectly sculpted face, his eyes gazing up at her as he munched away between her thighs.
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agalychnisspranneusroseus · 25 days ago
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Imagine you're Mr. Wu and your weird gay daughter runs away in tears after destroying some unespecified object while yelling about you ruining her life. Because you told her you'd be moving to another state. This is the last time you see your daughter in half a year, and when she comes back, she comes back... wrong. She's wearing a light leather armor, a fur-lined cape, and a green flower crown. She has two long scars, one alongside her spine and the other along her chest, the tissue around them covered in burn scars. Doctors say she shouldn't have survived. Doctors say she didn't. Yet she's right here, in front of you, hospital gown clinging to her small, fragile, trembling frame. She fidgets with her hands. Getting her to stay still has always been difficult, but now it seems impossible. She won't let go of her phone. She's always texting her two friends. When you take it away, she gets anxious. You always knew those damn phones cause kids to act weird, but your kid having a panic attack seems too extreme, even for her. Then again, she's always been odd. Nowadays, she wakes up crying and screaming almost every night, and you realize she's been stealing her phone from your bedside drawer every night to text her friends, returning it before you wake up. You catch her once and decide to give her that damn phone back. It's the only thing that calms her down, as if she were a baby with a pacifier. She spends her last weeks in LA clinging to her friends, having sleepovers and playing her weird board games with them. Everytime they drop her back at her house, there's an excessive amount of hugs and tears. But the moments when they call her, or when she leaves to meet with them, or when they show up at their door to pick her up... those are the only moments in which you see her happy. One of her friends, the rude and disobedient one, came back with a big scar on her face. She's been acting a lot nicer, though. The other one too. She acts a great deal more adult now. You doesn't know what happened or where your daughter went. She won't tell you. But you can tell this friendship is the only thing keeping her afloat right now. Maybe you know, deep down, that no one else would understand.
And then you decide to move anyway because fuck her amirite
#amphibia#marcy wu#my posts#so like what if marcy moving away was a proper tragedy#what if things were WORSE for her#what if *smashes marcy with a ROCK*#i realized that.#despite my parents being shitty (just found out literaly today my mom had doctors give me the wrong treatment because she assumed my body#would react the same way as hers. instead of doing what literally every doctor told her to do. now i need to get it fixed)#they still asked me how I felt about moving away to a different province when in like. 8.#like. oh right. this is something parents generally ask their kids about. instead of uprooting their entire lives out of nowhere.#marcy's situation is complicated in a narrative sense because#in order for her arc to work her departure must be dictated by morally neutral forces outside of her control#but her parents' decision seems very shitty with the context we're given. you COULD give context that justified their actions#i.e have them explain that they really do need this if they want marcy to go to college or some shit like that#but then it stops being Marcy vs. Forces of Nature#and it becomes Marcy vs. Her Dad (and she has to accept he's right in this one)#the show is clearly for a Marcy vs. Forces of Nature conflict (in this case it's the inevitability of change)#and in order to keep the antagonistic force abstract you CAN'T have her dad be a proper character#BUT. as a consequence -> Marcy has to give into the ''#the ''natural order'' which would be accepting her parents' power over her as natural and inevitable#it's not even like... accepting her parents are right or anything. just that their o#that their complete control of the situation and marcy's total powerlessness is natural and inevitable#and that's tragic! from a more watsonian ñerspective#perspective* : Marcy is sent back to her shitty parents and she just needs to learn how to deal with it away from her support system#the solution imo would have been to change the motivation behind her family moving away so that it's outside her parents' control too#it really has to be completely inevitable. i can't think of an alternative reason but it's just what it#it's what would fix this problem imo#it's a simple fix really
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wonder-worker · 5 months ago
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"It is too easy to dismiss [Leonor of Navarre] as an overambitious schemer who would do anything to obtain a crown, shedding the blood of her own siblings and her subjects in order to attain the throne. However, a deeper investigation of her long lieutenancy and ephemeral reign shows a woman who fought tenaciously to preserve her place but also worked tirelessly to administer a realm which was crippled by internal conflict and the center of the political schemes of France, Aragon, and Castile. She tried to broker peace, fight off those who opposed her, repair the wounds caused by conflict, protect the sovereignty of the realm, and keep the wheels of governance turning. Leonor was not always successful in achieving all of these aims but given the background of conflict and the lack of cooperation she received from all of her family members, bar her loyal husband, it is a huge achievement that she survived to wear the crown at all. Many writers have argued that Leonor deserved the troubled lieutenancy, personal tragedies, an ephemeral reign, and a blackened reputation, basing their assumption that she committed a crime that cannot be [conclusively] proven. However, a more fitting description of her would be that of a resolute ruler who successfully overcame a multitude of challenges in order to survive in a difficult political landscape and gain a hard-fought throne.”
-Elena Woodacre, "Leonor of Navarre: The Price of Ambition", Queenship, Gender and Reputation in the Medieval and Early Modern West, 1060-1600 (Edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz)
#historicwomendaily#leonor of navarre#15th century#Navarrese history#my post#I mean...the crime can't be explicitly 'proven' but Leonor DID have the means motive and opportunity; she had the most to gain;#the timing was incredibly convenient for her; and most contemporaries believed she was responsible.#She *did* ultimately act against her brother [Carlos] and sister [Blanca]#Though of course the fact remains that:#1) The final responsibility lies with Juan the Faithless: he was the King; the one in power; and the one who rejected Navarre's succession#Blanca herself - while criticizing Leonor and Gaston - placed the ultimate blame on their father as her 'principal...destructor'#All three siblings were reacting to an unconventional disruption in the system caused by Juan & their actions should be judged accordingly.#2) I am hesitant to believe accusations of 'poison' as a cause of murder given how that was commonly used to slander controversial women#and given how it contributed to the dichotomy of Blanca as a tragic beautiful heroine and Leonor as her scheming ambitious sister#3) Even if Leonor DID commit the crime (imo she was at the very least complicit in it) she is still worthy of a reassessment.#I don't think it's fair for it to define her entire identity#Because it certainly did not define her life - she lived for decades before and would live for decades after#It was on the whole one of the many series of obstacles and challenges she had to face before she succeeded in ascending the throne.#The fact that she died so soon after IS ironic but it is in equal parts tragic. And we don't know what Leonor herself felt about it:#Did she think it was a hollow victory? Or did she feel nothing but satisfaction that she died as the Queen of Navarre? We'll never know.#Whatever the case: given her circumstances the fact that she survived to wear the crown itself was an achievement#It's funny because Woodacre parallels Leonor to Richard III in terms of 'blackened' reputations for 'unproven' (...sure) crimes#(thankfully she admits Richard has been long-rehabilitated; what she doesn't bring herself to admit is that he's now over-glorified)#But I don't think this parallel works at all for the exact reasons she uses to try and reassess Leonor#Namely: Richard was the one in power. He was the King. The ultimate blame for what happened to his nephews was his own.#and moreover: Richard's actions against the Princes DID define his reign and were exactly what provoked opposition to his rule.#Any so-called 'rehabilitation' that doesn't recognize and emphasize this is worthless#also if we want to get specific: the Princes were literal children who did nothing and were deposed in times of peace.#Carlos and Blanca were adults with agency and armies and Leonor's actions against them took place in the middle of a civil war#So ultimately I think Leonor's case is fundamentally very different and I don't think her comparison holds well at all
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cluescorner · 2 months ago
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Long Post about Savage Opress because I am Normal
Savage Opress, you are everything.
You are at your strongest when you are fighting to protect the people you love. You had to participate in a battle royale and subjected yourself to a fate worse than death in order to protect your brother. You were forced to kill the brother you fought so hard to protect, your last words to him as he begged for his life were 'You make (me) weak'.
You are Frankenstein's monster, a kinslayer. You just have to live with that. Your mistress isn't giving you a choice in the matter.
You were placed under the control of a cruel master/mistress twice in the span of like a week. You were forced to betray your master and (under your mistress's orders) you killed two jedi, making you an enemy of the two most powerful entities in the galaxy. You made these enemies against your own will. You were lightning spammed and abused to the point that you were able to break free of your mistress's control.
You are then attacked by these two random jedi you have never met. They seem intent on bringing you in. They stand besides each other and fight to protect each other. You are reminded of how you did the same for your own brother. You killed that brother.
You run to the only home you've ever known, the same home that treated you as lesser-than and transformed you into what you are now. Your home is destroyed, all of your sisters are dead. You are upset by this. They were the cause of your suffering, but they were still kin.
You are told that you have a remaining brother, one who can make you strong enough to protect yourself. You decide to travel across the galaxy to find him. You killed your last brother, you will do anything for this one.
You seem to create trouble everywhere you are now. You are now incapable of solving problems without violence, so violence is what you become. You become hatred. You had love once, but everything that you loved is dead. Except for your remaining brother. You do whatever you must to find him.
You find your brother. Your brother is delirious and half-dead, but he is your brother and you found him. You can fix this. Your brother sees you too, or at least he sometimes does. You are a reflection of him, of what he was meant to be. You are strong and powerful. Your brother is not anymore, but he will be soon.
Your mother, the same woman who took you and warped you into a monster (that is what everybody calls you now), fixes your brother. Your brother grabs your face and twists it, painfully examining your every pore. You don't begrudge him this. You have done the same to it. Your face isn't yours, but it is the only face you have.
Your brother screams for vengeance against Kenobi, he must have revenge. You must stand by your brother, he is all that is left. You embark on a quest of vengeance against a man you only briefly met.
You become everything your brother needs you to be. You are his protector, his sword, his second-in-command. You have love again and you will do anything to keep it this time.
Your brother is a terrible person. Your brother will massacre a village for the sake of getting Kenobi's attention. Your living brother is nothing like the one you killed. You aren't sure this is a good thing.
Your brother lures Kenobi to the village and you both capture him. Your mistress shows up and immediately sets about belittling you. You are the monster she and your mother created. You are not her thrall anymore, you can fight her now. You do exactly that.
Your mistress and Kenobi retreat, your brother chooses to bide his time. You will wait with him.
Your brother and you infiltrate a ship, finding a fortune of credits. You are happy with this, you have never seen this much money in your life. Your brother's only fortune is the downfall of Kenobi.
Your brother calls you apprentice, decides that is what your relationship is now. You don't see the need for dominance, you are brothers after all. Your brother disagrees and you will subject yourself to this for your brother's sake. You are a reflection of him, of all his past flaws. You are devoted to those you love and able to feel things other than vindictive glee or hatred. Your brother is not anymore, he might never be again.
You think your brother is incapable of love. You love him all the same.
You and your brother next run into Kenobi with another Jedi Master. You do not know her name nor anything about her. You kill her, goring her with your (far larger than they should be) horns and running her through with your lightsaber. Your master is not forcing your hand this time, you can finally choose to make an enemy of the Jedi. You would have been their enemy either way, but the false choice is comforting regardless.
You and your brother corner Kenobi. You think for a moment that you have gotten the upper-hand, then Kenobi cuts your arm off. Your body leaks green magic. Your mother's magic still holds power over you even after everything. You wish it didn't.
Your brother shoves Kenobi away from you and decides to retreat. You aren't sure if this is a sign of affection towards you or if this is a strategic move. Your brother speaks as if it's the latter. You see no reason to believe otherwise.
You manage to escape, but are left adrift in space. You are freezing and slowly running out of oxygen. Your home was warm and full of breatheable air. You are alone with only a brother who calls you 'apprentice' for company. Your home was filled with brothers who called you by your name or by 'brother'. You are alive. Your home and brothers are dead.
You next wake up in an unfamiliar place. You smash all the equipment around you. You are now incapable of solving problems without violence, so violence is what you have become. Your brother informs you that his plans have changed, and now you two will be working with Deathwatch. You have no idea what Deathwatch is or who your brother just made a deal with. You will follow him regardless.
You stand up and hit your head on the lamp above you. You were supposed to be shorter than you are now. Your body is wrong. You look in the mirror and you are not yourself. Your body isn't yours, but it is the only body you have.
Your brother takes over Mandalore. You watch as your brother marches Kenobi into the throne room and prepares to execute the Duchess of this planet.
Kenobi offers sympathy. Kenobi recognizes that your brother never had a choice in joining the dark side. Kenobi had gone to your village and seen what it is like for the nightbrothers. Kenobi, despite everything, is trying to be kind.
You hear your story in Kenobi's words. You never had a choice in any of this. You never stood a chance. Your body isn't yours, your mind has been warped and twisted into serving the goals of another. You only wanted to protect your brother.
Your brother kills the love of Kenobi's life. Your brother has stripped himself and you of any possible chance to take the olive branch Kenobi was extending. You ask if you should kill Kenobi now. You know that stewing in grief and guilt can be a terrible fate. Your brother decides to keep him imprisoned. Your brother is counting on the Kenobi stewing in his grief and guilt. Your brother wants to drag out his suffering for as long as possible.
Your brother is in charge for less than a rotation. Your brother panics and bows before a withered old man, calling him 'master'. Your brother lies and fawns to his master. Your brother's master does not care.
You have never met this man before. You have no reason to fight him. Your brother is terrified of him. Your brother grovels before nobody, but he bows before this man. You don't have to do this.
Your brother needs you. You draw your weapon.
You manage to get a hit in on your brother's master. You are one of very few in the galaxy who can say that. You are at your strongest when you are fighting to protect the people you love.
You are stabbed in both your hearts. Your efforts to protect your brother, your pain and suffering, your love and affection, you, Savage Opress, you don't matter. You didn't know it, but you were fighting the most powerful being in the galaxy.
You never had a choice. You never stood a chance.
You die thinking you were unworthy of your brother. Your brother never said or did anything to make you think otherwise. You die calling yourself apprentice, that is the relationship your brother wanted. Your brother holds your hand as you die, it is trembling. You aren't sure if it is from grief or hatred. You decide it must be the latter. Your brother is only capable of hatred.
You knew your brother was incapable of love. You loved him all the same.
You don't know that you might have been the only thing your brother cared about besides his vengeance. You don't know that when you are unconcious he calls you by your name, he calls you brother. You don't know that he nearly killed the Death Watch soldiers, but stopped when they threatened you. You couldn't know. Your brother never told you.
You don't know that he uses his grief as fuel for his duel with Sidious. You don't know that he switches his ire away from Kenobi and decides that his former master is a more pressing target of his hatred You don't know that he spends the rest of his days trying to find a new apprentice to fill the hole you left and that it never works. You will never know. You are dead.
You died realizing you were nothing like your brother. You never were. Your body shrinks down, you finally look like yourself again. You can't be happy about this. You can't take relief in the fact that all the magic which ruined your life has been dispelled. You can't feel anything. You are dead.
You are right. You are nothing like Darth Maul. Your brother is motivated by hatred, you are motivated by love. Your brother will die having found peace, you died having found nothing but pain and grief and yet more pain.
You are my favorite magical girl and you have suffered so much more than Jesus.
#star wars the clone wars#Savage Opress#darth maul#obi wan kenobi#star wars#the clone wars#hey guys I think I have a new special interest#this is very bad. I have enough.#Savage isn't even my favorite Star Wars character. and I have THIS MUCH TO TALK ABOUT IN ONE POST#He IS my favorite character who doesn't make it out of Clone Wars. He is a CW only character and I am sad about that#When I heard that Maul was supposed to hallucinate him in Twins Suns but it was cut for time...AGONY#I get it but AGONY#But fr Savage is actually the most tragic character to me specifically.#this is obviously a lot of extrapolation from the stuff we're given in canon/my interpretation of it#but Savage is never allowed to emotionally react to things or even think about what's happened to him sooo#and Ventress never really explains how nightsister shit works either soooo idk I'm doing my best here#I haven't even touched on the fact that the transformation seems to have fucked with his intellect as well#his body isn't his and neither is his fucking mind. oh my god this man#he is a disability metaphor to me <3#you'd think I'm in love with this man the way I talk about him but I'm literally not into him at all I'm a fucking lesbian#I just think he's neat and also really sad and also jfc WHY AREN'T MORE PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THIS MAN????#I will also never be over Obi-Wan trying to empathize with Maul as Maul is about to kill Satine. He is so fucking cool actually#And I will never not yell at the screen about how Savage would have been a good Jedi but he never got the FUCKING CHANCE#I'll stop now
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organchordsandlightning · 1 year ago
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continually and constantly thinking about Hawkeye: "And you're my best friend, I never got along this well with anybody, moron!" BJ: "well, that goes double for me, stupid!"
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smol-tired-binch-blog · 1 year ago
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He is like an angel to me <3
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countlessrealities · 1 year ago
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Request or randomized kisses meme || No longer accepting
@advnterccs sent: 15. Kiss in the Rain { To your Morty from my Morty uwu }
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{15. Kiss in the Rain}
Morty's heartbeat was echoing in his ears. It wasn't as loud as it got when he was extremely anxious or on the verge of a panic attack, but it was still insistent enough to make it impossible for the teen to ignore it. He was trying hard not to let it affect his behaviour, but he couldn't stop the light shaking of his fingers.
Hazel eyes darted towards his boyfriend, who was sitting next to it on the threshold of the French window that led to the backyard of his house. Above them, the sky was covered by dark crowd and the humid smell in the air betrayed that it would be start raining soon. He hated lying to his other self, but Rick had been adamant when he had told him that neither of their counterparts had to know about the hopefully short trip they would go on.
The teen dropped his eyes in his lap. He understood why his grandfather had forced him to promise that. It was a long shot and it really wasn't worth to give the other two false hopes, especially when they could have ascertained quickly enough whether or not it was a real lead. Yet, it still felt wrong.
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"Uh, h-hey, I need to...T-There's something I need to tell you," he started, hoping that his voice wasn't as tight as it was sounding in his ears. "I...R-Rick and I are going on, uh, an adventure. I-It's the usual shit...w-well, kind of, but...w-we might be gone for a few days an-and...I wanted to let you know. An-And I wanted to say bye before we leave."
He swallowed, trying to ease the knot in his throat. Was he sounding weird? Too dramatic? He didn't want his boyfriend to get suspicious, but he couldn't help it. He was nervous, afraid even. And yes, his and Rick's adventures got scary and they sometimes still scared him, even after everything he had faced and done, but this was different.
Since that close encounter with that Rick...their original Rick, and damn if he still wasn't struggling to wrap his head around it...the Ricks had been acting weird, even before they had replaced themself with a robot. Now that everything was out in the open between the four of them? He could see how deep the abyss of obsession their two adventure partners were risking to fall in was.
Morty knew that he couldn't risk putting his foot down. Not now, not when his Rick had already proved that he could just decide to deal with it on his own. He and his boyfriends were the only thing keeping the two stubborn jerks from throwing themselves over the edge, as they had done years before. He had to be there for Rick, first and foremost. It was a task he could not fail. No matter the cost.
"G-Geez, I'm making it weird, aren't I?" He made himself go on, managing a chuckle that didn't sound too forced. "I-It's just...I'm going to miss you."
Damn, that was straight out cheesy. Yet, he would have lied if he had said that he didn't mean it. Maybe it was clichéd, maybe it sounded silly, especially since it should be just a few days, but he couldn't help how genuine the sentiment behind those words was.
Suddenly feeling too restless to remain seated, Morty pushed himself on his feet, hesitating just for a split moment before offering his hand to his counterpart to help him up in turn.
Once they were both standing, he found himself playing with the other's fingers. He couldn't tell if it was just a way to distract himself or if he was biding his time. Perhaps, he was merely seeking to prolong the contact.
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"I-I have to go soon. R-Rick said that I could stay a while, b-but...he's really, uh, eager to leave." And wasn't that an understatement. "S-So...I..."
His voice trailed off as the first drops of rain started to fall over them. He didn't want to think about the grimmest what-ifs, but it was hard not to, with the weight of revelation on his shoulder and a shadow looming over them all. One shaped like the guy whose actions had been the start of it all, but he wasn't the one casting it. No, it was made of the obsession of their Ricks.
Swallowing quietly, he decided to give up on words and to let his action speak for him instead. With much less hesitation than he had expected, he leant forward, wrapping his arms around his other self's neck and bringing their mouths together.
The rain was falling more and more heavily, soaking their hair and clothes, spreading cold over their skin, but Morty almost didn't notice. His attention was fully focused on the feeling of those warm lips moving against his own and on the taste of his boyfriend's mouth. The moist sweetness and the hint of bitterness left by the dark chocolate they had shared earlier.
Eventually, he had to reluctantly break away to allow them both to catch their breath. As much as he would have liked to just stay there, in his counterpart's arms, getting lost in the kisses they could have fed to each other, he knew that it wasn't possible.
"I-I love you, FM." The words were still so new on his tongue, so foreign. Not just because they had shared them for the first time just a few days before, but also because his counterpart was the very first person he had told them to in a romantic way. "I-I'll see you in a few days."
The last sentence was barely out of his mouth when a portal opened a few steps away from them and Rick's voice called his name from inside it. Their time had run out.
Morty chose to indulge himself for one more moment and stole another quick peck from his boyfriend's lips before letting go of the other's hand and stepping backwards towards the green vortex. One last smile and a wave and he forced himself to turn around and stepped inside it, before he could do something stupid as running back into his counterpart's arm and telling him everything he wasn't supposed to tell.
It wasn't a big deal, if he didn't make the whole ordeal into one. They would see each other in a few days. Of course they would.
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sweetteaanddragons · 4 months ago
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I have been thinking lately about a universe where Bruce Wayne killed the Joker.
I want to be clear here, since there are so many longstanding debates on this topic: I do not think Bruce Wayne should kill the Joker. I have just been wondering what would happen if the circumstances aligned in such a way that he did.
And to be clear on a related, yet slightly different topic: when I say I have been wondering about what if Bruce Wayne killed the Joker, I do not mean as the Batman. I mean Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.
Maybe it's kind of an accident? Like, he definitely did intend to hit the Joker, but he's Brucie right now, so he's trying not to look like he knows what he's doing while still doing enough damage to keep the Joker from killing someone, and meanwhile the Joker makes just the wrong move and -
And here we are. Brucie just killed the Joker.
Bruce's reaction here is one thing; he has his one rule for a reason, he's just broken it, he's determined to turn himself in -
His family's reaction is a whole different story. How does Cass feel about this?
How does Jason? Bruce has killed the Joker, just like he wanted, but it wasn't for him, not really, and -
And meanwhile, this happens in front of, say, a gala full of people, so now all of Gotham gets to react to it too.
Average Gothamite, seeing the words BRUCE WAYNE, JOKER, and KILLED in the same headline: OH, NO.
Average Gothamite, once they've processed the order those words are actually in: . . . I did not have that on this year's bingo card.
The city's most famous mass murderer has just been publicly killed by the city's biggest employer/philanthropist/source of tabloid harmless nonsense! Three days before Brucie was making tabloid headlines by tripping into a fountain and somehow losing his shirt in the process! Two weeks before, the newspaper was running a retrospective on the Wayne murders and what donation Brucie was making to help the families of victims this year! The article mentioned how one of his adopted sons had also tragically become a murder victim!
Now this has happened, and Bruce is having a breakdown over breaking his one rule, and the rest of Gotham just assumes that this is because poor Brucie thinks this somehow makes him like the man who killed his parents. They send a huge outpouring of support his way. This in no way helps Bruce's actual breakdown.
Ninety percent of Gotham is sure Brucie didn't actually mean to kill the Joker, and pretty much a hundred percent of them support him whether he meant to do it or not. No one wants to have anything to do with prosecuting this mess. Bruce is trying to make it as clear as possible that he will fully cooperate with the justice system and meanwhile an entire gala full of people is suddenly acting like they could in no way have possibly witnessed events that took place ten feet in front of their faces. Did Bruce kill the Joker? Is the officer sure? That doesn't seem like him. Maybe the Joker just tripped on his own. Marble floors, you know. Very slippery.
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attractthecrows · 9 months ago
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i think the main thing that bothers me about fanon families (because i am a picky pedant) is that for the most part, they ignore things like how said families would impact the characters and overall story. like it's one thing to add siblings and other random relations just for flavor, I can't judge there, I do it myself... but you gotta keep in mind how they slot in. who are these people related to? how are they similar? what are the common learned behaviors of the family - because they're there even if said character makes a purposeful break from said family - and how do they manifest? why and where is this person even involved in the story?
like don't get me wrong, this sort of playing around is a lot of fun. but it's fun (to me anyways) because people are so complex and there's so many facets to them, so there's all sorts of ways for their bonds with others to interact and add flavor to the plot.
#it's both funny and sad actually how simple fandoms make characters become and i like adding more complexity#like alyne#margaret and alyne are fancharacters. margaret's the sister of jake torrance. alyne is pellinore warthrops illegitimate daughter#they can add flavor and background and higher stakes to the monstrumologist or they can stand alone#because their story doesn't actually have much to DO with monstrumology except that their relations are monstrumologists#their story is that of a single mom deciding to raise her brilliant scientist daughter in a fishing town on the gulf coast#said brilliant scientist daughter doing what she loves and eventually learning about her father who was also a scientist#but never meeting him for sure because he died a month before she arrived in his hometown#its a story about missed connections and what you do afterwards#it has potential to intersect with the monstrumologist but it's a character study more than anything#of what would happen if someone with pellinore's tendencies grew up without the influence of monstrumology and money#anyway ramble over i was thinking about this in the car#also about how alyne would react to learning her father's name is PELLINORE after the king searching for the questing beast#and her name is ALYNE after king pellinore's daughter he abandoned to die because of his own blindness in his hunt for the beast#you inherited the legacy of the legend but your role in it is to die and make your father more compelling and tragic.#you inherited a yoke meant to be shuffled off in tragedy and pointless death. but your father is dead so the yoke is meaningless
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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months ago
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In my household growing up scaring each other was like an Olympic level sport. We’d wait around corners, we’d hide under things. We took it seriously.
My mom started it. She loved scaring us. She has a cherished photo of me screaming that she took one Halloween night after jumping out of a dark bush at me. But my quickly brother latched onto the game with abandon. Mom quickly regretted teaching us to do this as turnabout did not seek like fair play to her.
At one point my sister was given a life size cardboard cutout of Legolas and the second we realized that thing was an instant jump scare we’d move it all over the house. The scream from the bathroom at 2am was my crowning achievement but Legolas tragically went missing shortly after. Read: my mom burned him.
Now, as the youngest I was at a severe disadvantage. I spooked the easiest after my mom. I was exceptionally sneaky and patient so I typically got my revenge but I quickly learned that if you didn’t jump then it was less fun. Thus began my campaign for nonreaction. Every time someone jumped out at me I startled a little less as I stamped down on the reflex.
After a year or so I would just blink at my brother when he popped out from a closet. Don’t get me wrong, I was still scared. The spike of adrenaline and panic still happened internally but I didn’t react anymore. My brother soon gave up on me and the game died to our mothers intense relief.
I largely forgot about that period of my life but every so often someone tries to scare me and is extremely disappointed.
My favorite of these attempts was at Red Robin. Servers loved to spook the hosts when they could, it was a fun pastime when they didn’t have enough to do.
The hosts were meant to open the doors for people when it was slow. The door we opened had a single seat beside it on the left, then a blind hallway that led to the bathroom.
One evening I was on door duty. I was facing slightly away from the seat on my left. A server buddy of mine snuck out of the bathroom quiet as could be. He waited for the perfect moment, then leapt over the seat to land in front of me with a huge, “RAH!!!!!” It was a feat of fear and athleticism.
Panic shot through me like a lightning bolt but grounded itself quickly. I didn’t outwardly so much as blink in surprise, and after a quick beat I turned to look at him calmly and said, “Hey, Joe.”
He deflated and all the other hosts jaws dropped. “How did you see me?!”
“I didn’t,” I assured him.
He scoffed in disbelief and slunk away defeated.
He hounded me for a week about how coolly I’d greeted him, asking if I’d heard him coming or if another host had tipped me off. “No, you scared me,” I told him. He never believed it and no further attempts were ever made on me.
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ribbonprincess · 9 months ago
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.
"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."
He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.
"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."
Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.
꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦
As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"
Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.
"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.
"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."
Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"
Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."
Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"
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katakaluptastrophy · 10 months ago
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Masterpost of TLT metas
This is mostly for my own reference, as tagging doesn't seem to guarantee something being findable on Tumblr...but if you like wildly overthinking lesbian necromancers in space, enjoy!
Overthinking the Fifth House:
What is a "Speaker to the Dead"?
Actually, Magnus Quinn isn't terrible at sword fighting
Imperial complicity: Abigail the First
Pyschopomp: Abigail Pent and Hecate
Did Teacher conspire with Cytherea to kill the Fifth?
What does the Fifth House actually do?
The Fourth and the Fifth can never just be family
Cytherea's political observations at the anniversary dinner
Abigail Pent's affect: ghosts and autism
Were the Fourth wards of the Fifth?
Abigail probably knew most of the scions as children
Magnus Quinn's very understandable anger
Fifth House necromancy is not neat and tidy
Are Abigail and Magnus an exception to the exploitative nature of cavaliership?
"Abigail Pent literally brought her husband and look where that got her" (the Fifth in TUG)
The Fifth's relationship dynamic
The Fifth's relationship is unconventional in a number of ways
The queer-coding of Abigail and Magnus' relationship
Abigail and Palamedes, and knowing in the River
Was Isaac the ward of the Fifth?
Did Magnus manage to draw his sword before Cytherea killed him? (and why he probably had to watch his wife die)
How did Abigail know she was murdered by a Lyctor?
Fifth House necromancy is straight out of the Odyssey
The politics of the anniversary dinner
Was Magnus born outside of the Dominicus system?
Overthinking John Gaius:
The one time John was happy was playing Jesus
Is Alecto's body made from John's?
Are there atheists in the Nine Houses?
Why isn't John's daughter a necromancer?
The horrors of love go both ways: why John could have asked Alecto 'what have you done to me?'
Why M- may have really hoped John was on drugs
What is it with guys called Jo(h)n and getting disintegrated? (John and Dr Manhattan)
John's conference call with his CIA handlers
Watching your friend turn into an eldritch horror
Why does G1deon look so weird? (Jod regrew him from an arm)
When is a friendship bracelet not a friendship bracelet?
Why did John have G1deon hunt Harrow? (with bonus update)
The 'indelible' sin of Lyctorhood and John's shoddy plagiarism of Catholicism
Are John Gaius and Abigail Pent so different?
What was Jod's plan at Canaan House?
John and Ianthe tread the Eightfold path
The Mithraeum is more than a joke about cows
When was John Gaius born? (And another)
John Gaius and the tragic Orestes
John and Jesus writing sins in the sand
John and Nona's echoing chapters
John's motivations
Overthinking the Nine Houses:
'No retainers, no attendants, no domestics'
Funerary customs and the violence of John's silence
Juno Zeta and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time
The horror of the River bubble
Every instance of 'is this how it happens' in HTN
Feudalism is still shitty even if you make it queer and sex positive
How do stele work?
Thought crime in the Nine Houses
The Houses have a population the size of Canada
What must it be like to fight the Houses?
You know what can't have been fun? Merv wing's megatruck on Varun day...
Augustine's very Catholic hobby (decorating skeletons)
Necromancers are not thin in a conventionally attractive way
Matching the Houses with the planets of the solar system
Why don't the Nine Houses have (consistent) vaccination or varifocals?
How would the Houses react to the deaths at Canaan House?
How does Wake understand her own name (languages over 10,000 years)
What pre-resurrection texts are known in the Houses?
Camilla and Palamedes very Platonic relationship
The horrors the Cohort found at Canaan House
Do the Houses understand the tech keeping them alive?
Overthinking House religion:
What do the Houses believe about death?
Was M's nun a Franciscan?
Cavaliership and arbitrary socio-religious structures
Ritual scarification
Sacraments and sacramentals
What did Silas think god wanted at Canaan House?
In defense of Silas
There's no such thing as a 'good' necro/cav relationship
Veiling and shaving in Ninth House cult practice
Tongue-in-cheek thoughts on Eighth and Sixth religion
A very long deep-dive on House belief and practice
Overthinking Harrowhark Nonagesimus:
'The meat of your meat...belonged to god' and 'that is how meat loves meat'
The horror of parental touch: Harrow, John Gaius, and Abigail Pent
Why is Harrow so obsessed with Abigail's hands?
Frontline Titties of the Fifth and transgressive necro/cav relationships
Harrow, Wake, and permeability of the soul in HTN
Bible studies for weird queer necromancers:
Epiphany: revealing god's child to the wider world
The Holy Innocents and the creche massacre
The Virgin Mary and Commander Wake
John Gaius and John the Baptist
Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection
What's the significance of Paul?
St Paul's theology of gender and sexuality and the House theology of cavaliership
Maundy Thursday: consuming another for eternal life
Harrow and the Harrowing of Hell
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
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Hello and good day 🕊️
How will the vice dormheads react seeing reader overblot and finding out they kept the pain all to themselves until they couldn't take it anymore?
Pls I'm so desperate for overblot!reader content and angst❤️❤️ tanks
RARE VICE HOUSEWARDENS REQUEST 🔥🔥🔥I LOVE ANGST!!!! not adding ruggie this time because I'm lazy sorry everyone
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ overblot!reader
type of post: headcanons characters: trey, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, established relationship for the Angst
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there are a lot of things Jamil is feeling right now. fear, a little frustration, too. but he's mostly just ashamed that he never saw the signs. his favorite person in the whole world, the only shoulder he had to lean on, is overblotting, and he has no idea why. you were so supportive through the aftermath of his own overblot, he never thought to... it's his own selfishness and pride slapping him in the face, and it stings
but he'd rather feel guilt than grief. overblotting is painful, exhausting, and emotionally scarring, and he knows it. he's going to get you out of this, even if you hate him for it
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
this makes the second time someone close to Rook has been led to overblot, and the second time he didn't see it coming. a tragedy in two parts. and his guilt would have killed him, if it weren't the only thing keeping him alive now. he has to survive this for you. he can feel miserable about it after you're safe and sound at his side again. he won't even consider the other possibility; you have so much more to explore together
it just can't be over yet
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Lilia has followed grief for his entire life. now, at his age, when he's finally settled down, and the world is quiet for once, this happens. he can't tell if he had simply missed the signs, or ignored them, and each answer is equally distressing. despite what he's said about life and loss, he was never ready to confront the reality of losing you, especially so... soon. so, reality confronted him instead
he can't let it end like this. not again
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Trey blames himself. how could he not? all this time, he's been trying to stay out of the way, to keep the peace. if he had been by your side, if he had defended you, if he had made a better effort, maybe you wouldn't be in this place now
his unique magic isn't particularly strong, and his magic pool isn't very deep, but he'll walk right into the center of the storm if he has to. it's about time he started rocking the boat
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul's overblot was tragic, but Jade knew it was coming. it was entertaining, anyway. but this...
never in his life could he imagine something making him so uncomfortable. it makes him queasy, almost seasick, which is a strange thing for a man of the sea to feel. he wishes he could just talk to you, but it's too late for that now. when this is over, you can have a long chat over tea
he just needs you to hold on for a little while longer
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runby2 · 8 months ago
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the gavin brothers are so fucking petty and funny like, yeah it's really tragic and they're doomed siblings but you know for a fucking fact that phoenix witnessed a heated argument at some point between klavier and kristoph, expecting it to end in tragedy if some sort, and klavier shouts "that's it! i'm telling herr wright! i'm telling the world your secret!" and kristoph reacts like the world is actually about to end and phoenix feels klavier grab his shoulder and klavier says "Sometimes, Kris puts ketchup on his steak!"
And phoenix, a man who eats steak with his bare hands, could not care less about this or about what social rule that breaks, but Klavier looks so triumphant like he won and Phoenix turns to see if Kristoph is going to ask why he's acting so high and mighty - but Kristoph looks like he's just had his goddamn soul ripped out.
and when he finally regains his footing he snaps back all haughty with "Klavier, I didn't want to do this to you in front of Wright. But, I know about how you don't use the proper utensils to eat crab." He idly keeps filing his nails.
and klavier is fucking . devastated. phoenix is still confused, hasn't reacted once. he's eating potato chips and didn't ask to witness this.
the siblings start slipping into arguing in german and phoenix is even more lost that he was before. He overhears one english word and it's "charcuterie" and pieces together some other words that sound similar to english. Klavier just told Kristoph that his charcuterie boards 'don't have enough cheese to compliment the meat.' kristoph flips his braid over his shoulder and lands the final blow of, "The potpourri you chose for the living room doesn't even smell warm and inviting."
Phoenix feels like the energy in the room got darker. Klavier is in tears, and runs away like Kristoph just insulted his entire existence.
Phoenix is still eating potato chips and licking the salt off his fingers.
He doesn't know what potpourri is.
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cutieeva · 2 months ago
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Returned Home
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Female reader
Warnings : Death. Murder.
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒
What happens if the person you love went missing and suddenly reappear in your doorsteps ? Because (Y/N) doesn't know how to react.
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Knocks at the door were light at first, almost like a whisper before turning into frantic and loud like screams that (Y/N)'s sleep broke, a whine slip past her lips not loving the thought of her rare sleep intruded, all after that incident she almost at the verge of becoming the shell of a human, always worrying, little guilty yet hollow the entire time. Perhaps time will heal her wounds and pause the bleeding unfortunately not the knocking because it keeps increasing in alarming amount. She thought in her daze mind, wrapping a soft cloth around her nightdress she step out of the sofa, how tragic despite having warm bed, beautiful home with many rooms the only place she fell asleep was on the sofa in living room in front of the still on TV which is repeatedly showing some episodes of only murders in the building her mind has almost memorized.
"Coming !" She yell, messaging her forehead, feeling her head burn from both the torturous knocks and the stress of what if the twins wake up. Her feet drum the white tiles walking towards the front door and finally her eyes open to peek at the peekhole for safety. Huh ? She rub her eyes once more to peek yet why all she can see is black ? Her fogged mind question not still awaken from the slumped when she flinch feeling the knocks vibrate the door so closely.
"Who is this ?" Her voice stern, not fearful she could have been if awake, adamant to not open the door. Silence replies her. No voice only silence along the knocks. Her eyes narrow feeling her body ache from pain and the headache worsen. "These children". Her neighborhood is fill with all age children and unlike her sweet twin angels, these ones are the demons, the one she was thankful to not have. Oh, remind of her babies, what time is it ? Her eyes glance at the clock on the wall 7:00 am, whoa ? Which child is playing pranks at her doorsteps instead of being in school ? Oh ! Today is Sunday she forgets.
Must make breakfast she thought, her lips shaped a yawn about to walk away from the door "It's......me". Her heart sank, breath sucked. "(Y/N)". She remembers that voice, her whole fabric of being knows that voice, the voice she heard, whisper sweet nothings, laughs loudly, quick to anger, arrogance in his speech. In a second her hand having a mind of it's own, touch the shivering cold doorknob, twist it to unlock and swing open fast enough to not gave chance for the creaking noise.
Revealing the visage of none other than her husband, Vesper Rufus who is missing for two months after the alone trip to mountain.
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Munch ! Cracks ! The noise of his devouring simple milk with cornflakes sends strange feelings within herself. Sitting across the dinning table of her husband who's black shirt made her recall it's original color white with his pale skin painted in faded marks of nasty bruises and bite marks belonging to animals, even insects she suspect, a grime cast her face merely thinking of what he went through to be alive in that forest where no police, forest rangers, rescue rangers even herself couldn't find. Hell, the helicopter wasn't of helped. Her eyes then slide below his body that is hidden by the counter where his pants are in the same condition, grey pants painted in coal. Her head span to her behind looking at the door to see no shoes of his as she found him barefoot with crimson hue smeared over his feet.
Click ! Her thoughts snap at the noise of his meal finish turning her vision to his face, dirt, scratchs cover his blemished handsome face. A smile lift those once perfect plump lips now dry and chapped. A happy sparkle in those pools of eyes she fell for that with time and marriage forgetton to dust leaving only a usual reflection of hers she used to bore before he went missing. Suddenly a yearning ache pull her body towards him, stand down from the metal chair, silently cross the line of space and stood under those eyes. Immediately she was hit by the smell of dust, rot, filth yet without a second she throw her arms around him, surrounding her body into his and hug him tightly, the cold body.
Her lids cover her vision, soaking into the frosty embrace and slowly she sense his arms embracing her back, gently to tightly and burying his face into her curve of neck like she was his roof, her shelter he just been gifted.
"Where were you these two months ?" Tears she thought were dried roll down her cheek, her voice soft. "The kids were crying". she added flood with the images of her twin sons wailing at the first news of their father might never returned as the police declared him dead saying no man has the capacity to survive in that stormy mountain more than two weeks and he was missing for two months. Perhaps they didn't found the body because the wild nature covet him or the animals feasted upon him. She likes to think the former. But now she knows, she knows they didn't find his body because he was alive all along.
"Children ?" She felt him title his head in her neck. "Ah ! Children, the twins". His voice muffed and horse like decades of out of speech. Softly like she handle her flowers she lean away from the embrace regardless of his hands still on her waist.
"You remember who am I right ?" Vesper nod like a good man he never was.
"(Y/N) Rufus, my wife, my soulmate". Those sharp onyx eyes that slice her heart multiple times tendered looking at her as if for the first time seen her, feel and stare so intimately at her. Never did she thought the gaze will be directly to her again after their dating phrase pass into the marriage years.
"And about the children ?" She ask, tip toe up to him, pressing her body, her breast to his and lips inches away. Intoxicated he looked, like sipped a bottle of beer he drunk with pink tints on his cheeks to ears, falling in her spell as if for first time he fell in love.
"Leo, Felix". Breathless he answered, leaning closer to her, brushing his lips with her yet not closing the gap. Why ? She wonder because never did her husband cared for her consent. If his sexual desire awaken he will use her like a escort not a wife. From the beginning he announce his ownership on her like she was a object and her past self mistook it as romantic and after marriage she was a servant. Never a wife, was a lover.
Maybe that's why his missing didn't pain her as much to shed a single tear until now when he is different, his warmth disappear, his arrogance fended leaving a stranger in her arms and she still kiss the stranger. Her lips collide his and it confirmed more. How naive his kiss is like he is exploring her, knowing her for the first time unlike him, who knew her like the back of his palm or— perhaps it's his self pleasure he knew like the back of his palm. Never hers, not after their marriage. The brand of ring tied their fates together as well as ruinning.
Not a hint of bad breath or taste she felt oddly, rather bitter taste of nature hits her when their lips met, at first like a careful of understanding he press their lips hard before she open her lips, giving him the space to enter and he mirrored it, like a learning child slide his tongue, following his guts and savoring her hotly, a contrast to his frosty body. Tips of tongue tease her inner flesh as he wish like she is his salvation before harshly mushing their body and lips more near than humanely possible, with brim of desire and addiction he bite her lips, tongue tenderly, exchanging sliver salivas and breathing heavily like he was suffocated yet not ready to leave as he continue to drove deeper, deeper into the mouth and (Y/N) felt being devoured by a predator not her husband who never with such passion held her, gave her pleasure.
Heart racing and breath threating to stop she ripped herself away, coughing fits at multiple times and drinking water unlike him, his lips hanged open, eyes beastly nothing similar to the sparkly happiness and red blush adore his pale skin. Their eyes met and without another warning he smashed their lips.
"You are so sweet, so deliciously sweet". Mumble his horse voice in the kiss, eating her lips like she was a dinner, shamelessly staring at her while invading her mouth and she let him, kiss her as if her being was the only source of meal. Been ages did her husband desire her such as this moment not to mention it proves more he wasn't her Vesper and it brought her nothing apart from relief.
Suddenly he paused, eyes wide and grip tighten. She slowly freed her swollen lips yet dig the knife deeper in his back. Yes, while he was under the spell of his lust, she went near him— more like near the knife set and stab him at his weakest moment.
"Who are you ?" Calmly she asked, hearing the thrives of her knife twisting his skin, flesh yet no trickle of blood bleeding. Strange she thought glances up again meeting his blank face. Not the agonizing look of a man being stabbed. Not her real husband who's eyes were betrayed, tears sliding and blood bled from her mouth like a fat fish squeeze out of it's body as before.
"Who the fuck are you when I killed my husband with my own hands ? When I buried his body under the solid of that mountain ?" Gritten her teeth, the mask of calmness cracked as she pulled the knife out desire to see the blood bled out of the man she loves so much, devote her life, birth children cutting from her flesh yet he cheated on her bluntly and gaslit her when confronted and spiral into questioning her own sanity. However no blood slide, no scarlet paint his pale skin.
"How ?" She whispered, in more disbelief of him not bleeding than her dead husband who she clearly murdered after planning thoroughly knowing his plan of visiting the mountain which he lied saying he is going alone when in reality his mistress and him will intertwined in ways she can't imagine and follow him before the mistress meets him and killed him brutely, stabbing him fourteen times in his entire body leading his death due to blood loss and burying deep into the soil that took hours only to return home unscathed.
Erriely quiet the stranger wore her husband's skin stare at her angered ones and part his lips. "I see, no wonder that was the most gruesome body I ever seen—" The raspy voice slowly get used to speech pause and (Y/N) sense him debeating. "And wore". The end words was something she couldn't swallow, couldn't avert eyes nor run hearing the conformation in his own voice.
"Who are you then ?" She tremble. He notice.
"Who am I ?" He tilt his head mirroring a clueless being. "Who am I ? What am I ? Doesn't matter because what am I isn't what suppose to exist yet I do and now I am your husband yet not. The body is his, yet what inside is not". Game of puzzle he answered. "I won't die, never bled nor need of humane things. I am of a being neither alive nor dead". Neutral his voice rang her ears echoing inside and frighting from the laughable answer but she knew better to laugh. No other way could her husband retrieve from dead than be possessed by something inhumane, abnormal like the myths tales of creatures she heard.
"Then, will you kill me ?" She let go the blade that isn't even paint in blood, shining her terrified reflection as it was fell on the floor with a biting click.
"No. I like you". A short answer relief her stress a little. "You taste sweet, you smell sweet and you are sweet. I want to cherish you, kiss you like I did. I want to claim you mine". Chanting every word he pepper kiss over her skin. Worshipping, caressing each curve, drinking her making her visible relax and something in her tells it's safe. He is safe—to her. Why ? maybe because her husband terrifies her more than a creature from tale.
"And my children ?" Her words carefully used. Her, not their. He halted in his actions. Inhaling her fabric when he reunite their lips again.
"Not them. Because they are ours. You are my wife, my soulmate and they are our children". Yes, it is because the moment he smell of unwelcome human scent in his home, he prepared to feast them, chew their bones and if unlucky torture them until they beg to death however it changed finding one glimpse of the beautiful woman bearing bloodlust and hatred the creature swore he saw her shining upon a halo and the way of her body soaked in blood of the man's arouse humanely needs he never felt apart from endless hunger. This hunger was different, pleasureful he seen these humans do sometimes before their withered body aside inside his stomach.
He watched the angelic woman, the lymph of paradise left the man buried and he walked out of the shadows to the place the man is under, saw his belongings along his address and the lymph is his wife— (Y/N) with twin sons. Good she killed him before he had to and now she is his, her children is his, all of her is his alone.
Tiny groans, tapping of floor steal their attention and (Y/N) watched her children wore night outfits walking towards the open kitchen, rubbing their hazy eyes.
"Mama I am hungry". Her three old years son said, the older one between them.
"Me too ! But I want pizza". The younger twin said, opening his eyes only to widen and grasp loudly. "Papa !" Following a joyful scream his tiny feet ran to the stranger wore their father's skin and the older twin also stare, face brighten in happiness the mother didn't saw since he was missing. His body was thrown to their father too and unnatural, his arms touch them back, still glancing to see (Y/N)'s visage than theirs.
Touching his familiar face, she caress saying "Yes, papa has returned home". The man lean in decided not the say one more thing, actually the real husband she killed was alive the time he was standing above the ground however he killed him again. For good and twice his death was before taking his skin.
"Indeed I have". Smiling crazily. "Returned home".
FIN
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freyadragonlord · 6 months ago
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Stolas and Blitz’s relationship is a really well written misunderstanding plot, and here’s why 
I didn’t exactly have bad expectations about the Full Moon episode, yet I find myself pleasantly surprised by just how well the show handled the final confrontation between Stolas and Blitz. It was perfectly tragic and, most importantly, it perfectly fits how their relationship was built up to this point.
But how did Stolas get to this point?
Stolas has been starved for love since he was a child. His father only knew how to buy Stolas’ stuff to distract him from his distress (whenever Paimon bothered to even be around). Stolas’ wife – whom he did not choose – disdained him and did not miss a chance to humiliate him. He used to have a good relationship with his daughter, even though things got more complicated as she grew up and started to realize that her parents hate each other; but having your own child love you isn’t the same as having someone love you because you are you.
And then, out of nowhere, This Guy whom he considers his first friend - someone who was at the center of one of the best memories from his childhood - sneaks into his house and tries to seduce him!! Needless to say, Stolas is taken by surprise!
He even tries to talk to Blitz at first, and asks him about his life. He wants a connection, but Blitz just kinda pushes Stolas on his bed and starts doing sexy things to him, while dodging his questions. And, well, Stolas has never had good sex before that moment! His only experience is with a woman who does not like him and whom he doesn’t like. He gets swept away! Turns out, kinky sex really does it for him, and Blitz just Keeps Going all night!
Now, we don’t get to see how Stolas reacted when he figured out that Blitz was there to steal his book. The next thing we know (which is actually the first time the audience is introduced to Stolas) is that he is determined not to let that night with Blitz be the last. And who knows, even if Blitz had an ulterior motive for that first night, Stolas could still have a chance to seduce him! But how to do that? Well, the only thing Stolas knows about Blitz is that he really seemed to be into kinky sex and dirty talk…. So, Stolas goes for that!
After a while, though, he realizes it isn’t working. Plus, as much as the sex is good, what he really wants from Blitz is romance! So, he tries changing his approach, he introduces the idea of dates, of staying at home without fucking… But every time Stolas tries to change things, Blitz is resistant.
Stolas has many flaws. He is unaware of his privilege, he can be entitled, too self-centered… but one thing he is not, at least, is clueless about his own feelings. Stolas knows he loves Blitz, he knows he wants them to be together, and so he spends a long time trying to figure out how to confess, how to convince Blitz that his feelings are sincere…
In a way, it’s all that planning that dooms him. He spends so much time thinking things over, finding the perfect words, the perfect selfless act to confess to Blitz and set him free, that he does not realize that his confession will come out of nowhere for Blitz. And that Blitz will not have had hours and hours to rehearse his own reaction!
To be fair to him, Blitz truly is spectacularly clueless – to the level that it’s difficult to understand, without knowing his history - when it comes to his own feelings…
Right, how did Blitz get to this point?
The first time Blitz met Stolas, as a child, Blitz’s father had literally sold him as entertainment, and then ordered Blitz to steal from Stolas' house. “Go make yourself useful for once.” “It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve.”
Blitz grows up in an environment where his own father prefers another child to him. His only worth to his dad is to be a trading card, and to be an instrument to get rich.
Blitz doesn’t grow completely without love, tho! He knows what it is like to be loved. He has a best friend, his twin sister, his mother… And then he manages to lose all three of them in one single, spectacular accident. And it was an accident! But it was also his fault. And that’s the night Blitz learns that nobody can love him for long, because he does not deserve it. Even if someone did care for him, eventually they will realize he is worthless and dangerous.
Blitz hates himself.
Still, he does what he has to do to survive, and he goes on.
Years pass, and Blitz is trying to achieve his oldest dream, the dream to be his own boss, to lead a successful business, to prove that he can do something right. He needs Stolas’ book to achieve his dream, so what? It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve. He can make himself useful for once.
Does Blitz understand that it’s not Stolas himself who bought him all those years ago, but rather his father? It doesn’t really matter in the end, the only thing that’s important is that he knows that if he distracts Stolas enough, it’s not that hard to steal from him. If he sells himself, he can get anything out of Stolas.
The sex an accident, in the end. Stolas suggests Blitz is there to seduce him (Stolas is joking, but Blitz doesn't realize that), so Blitz goes for that. He bites Stolas’ neck to distract him from the theft, and Stolas reacts to that! Blitz can use this! He just happens to encourage Stolas when Stolas talks dirty to him, he doesn’t know he’s the one planting the idea in Stolas’ brain.
And Blitz could leave Stolas tied up and flee with the book, but at the end he feels bad. He decides to fuck Stolas after all, and well… That wasn’t so bad. He was supposed to do it “real fast”, but ends up spending the whole night!
Still, what if the sex was good? Stolas is still an entitled and powerful prince. And Stolas’ behavior in the following months only confirms that the other demon is just using him! And when Stolas’ actions start to change, well, surely that’s just some new kink, some new game…
Blitz constantly confirms his own biases, and he is incapable of seeing beyond them. He expects to be used because he has been used so many times, ever since he was a child. He doesn’t expect to be loved, because he doesn’t believe anyone can love him.
And if he starts to enjoy the time he spends with Stolas, at least sometimes, well….. That’s just the good sex. Plus, he feels powerful, when he’s fucking Stolas. Not only because Blitz dominates him in bed, but also because this is an arrangement he entered of his own free will, and he’s the one directly benefiting from it.
And! Isn’t it easier this way??? Relationships are messy! This arrangement, tho, no feelings involved, at all! He can push Stolas around as much as he wants, and Stolas will let him.
(Stolas cannot get hurt, after all.)
(He can get hurt??)
Blitz has many flaws. Being clueless about his feelings, and other people’s feelings, is maybe his biggest flaw. Stolas’ confession comes out of nowhere from him. He is confused. Nobody can love him, so it is a game, right?
It’s not a game. Where did this “confession” come from? He’s mad now. Stolas broke the rules, Stolas is using him again, somehow, Stolas… Stolas is crying.
It’s not a trick.
Their whole relationship has been a huge misunderstanding since day 1, and Blitz only just realized.
And Stolas sent Blitz away before he had time to realize, as well.
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